Right, in a world where everyone seems to be saying “Don’t bother strangers in public, nobody wants to be bothered!” I’m supposed to just go out and… talk to strangers… until I magically make friends?
So all the things people criticized me for in the past (i.e., talking to strangers who apparently didn’t want to be bothered) are now precisely what I’m supposed to do to overcome the symptoms of the social rejection I experienced from being labeled as someone who talks to strangers in public?
Yeah, I’d rather die alone than twist my brain into knots trying to decode that jumbled mess.
Yeah, that’s something I’m just not capable of. I tried for years but it always left me perplexed. Humans are strange, ambiguous creatures, and I don’t have whatever it is that let’s them decode each other’s hidden meanings. People have always expected me to just magically know without being told.
I don’t get it. I never have. When my imagination is all that’s left to fill in the blanks, it comes up with some pretty grotesque distortions. I no longer place any credence in anything I don’t know for fact. I’m too old to lose my sanity again trying to figure out whatever the fuck “read between the lines” even means…
Right, in a world where everyone seems to be saying “Don’t bother strangers in public, nobody wants to be bothered!” I’m supposed to just go out and… talk to strangers… until I magically make friends?
So all the things people criticized me for in the past (i.e., talking to strangers who apparently didn’t want to be bothered) are now precisely what I’m supposed to do to overcome the symptoms of the social rejection I experienced from being labeled as someone who talks to strangers in public?
Yeah, I’d rather die alone than twist my brain into knots trying to decode that jumbled mess.
You need to learn to read the room (and individual people)
Yeah, that’s something I’m just not capable of. I tried for years but it always left me perplexed. Humans are strange, ambiguous creatures, and I don’t have whatever it is that let’s them decode each other’s hidden meanings. People have always expected me to just magically know without being told.
I don’t get it. I never have. When my imagination is all that’s left to fill in the blanks, it comes up with some pretty grotesque distortions. I no longer place any credence in anything I don’t know for fact. I’m too old to lose my sanity again trying to figure out whatever the fuck “read between the lines” even means…